March...winter departs and spring approaches. The snow recedes and uncovers detritus and trash as it shrinks into dirty little piles. Trees stand bare. Fallen leaves lay sodden and lifeless on the ground, weighted down and muddy.

November is somewhat like March, but November has its great scorpionic charm - the triumph of darkness that heralds the difficult months ahead - the advance of winter that one can love as one can love an enemy that forces you to draw upon your strength to meet them.  

But March brings no challenges - spring is coming .. but it's not yet here. Winter lingers on as mere dingy inconvenience...

What to photograph in March's flat light? Dead leaves? Dead leaves swirling in icy cold water? Dead leaves covered with drying mud?  Yes, yes and yes...  

Its a foolish undertaking but I try to understand March - the nascent spring, the life potential not quite realized but inevitable, the feeble remnant of winter. A mystery.